


This is not the apocolypse

by Ishtar12



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Battle prep, Clint is Ridiculous, How Do I Tag, I clearly don't know how to format, M/M, POV Steve, Tony sings, avengers fluff, because I listened to Radioactive too many times on repeat, first posted fic I'm such a coward, silliness, someone explain the freaky teddy bear death match, vague alien invasion thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3836068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishtar12/pseuds/Ishtar12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is surveying his troops as they wait for the enemy. The Avengers decide to liven one another up by being ridiculous.</p><p>(Or, in which I wrote a quick unedited thing because I wanted Tony to sing Radioactive.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is not the apocolypse

**Author's Note:**

> Fanfiction, by definiton is playing in someone else's sandbox. 
> 
> Inspired by the Lindsey Sterling/Pentatonix version of Imagine Dragons- Radioactive.

     Steve’s fingers itched for his colored pencils as his eyes flicked across the lush valley. Emerald bladed grass covered the rolling hills behind him, picturesque farmland stretching towards the horizon on his left, where it bled into the clear blue sky. He'd need to crosshatch several of his blues to come close to that rich hue. Even the wind, visible as a ripple through corn, seemed a masterpiece. He hummed to himself as he settled his gaze towards his right; hardly any less breathtaking yet significantly less quaint.

     Row after disheveled row of people in uniforms so worn, stained or ripped it was difficult to tell which branch of the military they belonged to; people with hollows under their eyes and bandages on their limbs. Humanity and all its inelegance. Steve found himself wondering idly if rapid strokes with a graphite stick would be able to capture the troops’ chaotic, aching weariness. He felt as though there should be more dissonance between the day’s idyllic setting and the preparations for yet another battle. 

      Soft sounds filled the valley; a dull tide of murmurings, shifting clothing, the scrape of a weapon against its holster. Closing his eyes, he tuned out the noise that inevitably accompanied such a large gathering of people. Instead, the Captain focused on the sweet, crisp scents of country air. He expanded his lungs,relishing the lack of stone-dust. As he exhaled, he allowed his eyes to drift open and re-focus on his immediate area. 

      Steve had purposely positioned himself several yards ahead of the regular soldiers. Loosely grouped around him were people of super human capabilities; hero or otherwise. Steve absently ran a finger along the edge of his shield as he took stock of his peers. Pre-battle tended to be an odd time for all, tension and gallows humor high as people methodologically checked armor or weapons. Many bantered amongst themselves, several stood eerily still as they eyed the sky and for some unfathomable reason Spider-Man was attempting to inch behind Wolverine on his hands and knees. Bemused, he shook his head.

     He reached up and touched his new communicator, ensuring it was still in place. “Cap here. Just double checking team leaders have their modified comms.” When he received several affirmatives, he allowed himself to shift so he could see both the skyline and Tony better. The smaller man had been up for nearly eighteen hours tweaking enough communicators for the various heads of each assembled unit. They'd learned the hard way that having no reliable way to communicate across teams led to disasters. Hopefully, chatter would be minimal, but he doubted it. Putting Reed and Tony on the same frequency may be disastrous for _his_ sanity.

      A hand came down heavily on his shoulder, squeezing for a moment before falling away. The tight coil in his neck eased for a moment as Bucky leaned in, his voice a hoarse murmur in Steve’s ear. “Relax, Cap. All your ducks are in a row. We're as prepared as we can be. We got this. We got time before the big show down anyway, if Stark’s right.”

     Tony, seated nearly at Steve’s feet was half out of his armor as he made some last minute tweaks to his left boot, peered up at them through his sweat matted hair. Doe brown eyes sparkled with humor despite the shadows underneath. He jabbed a small metal implement in Bucky’s direction, declaring “If I was –if? _If_! Oh ye of little faith, I am always right, you know this, I am, of course I'm right, besides they're like clockwork, its predictable, its predictable clockwork that is unnecessarily violent and attempting to take over the planet because all the other clockwork makes fun of it, they will be here.” Bucky snorted. The humor drained from Tony’s eyes as he tapped the tool against his chest. Quietly, he continued, “They’re en route, right on schedule. They'll be here, and we're ready for them.” He slipped the tiny thing, a screwdriver by the looks of it, back into the thigh compartment of the suit and reattached the boot. 

     Steve wanted to reach out and hold the other man close, knowing he took a strange comfort in Tony’s rambles. Instead, he helped haul him to his feet. Steve jumped when Clint materialized at his side, too busy watching Tony’s slim fingers fastening the chest plate into place to realize someone had been approaching. Bucky gave another amused huff when the new arrival grinned and fired finger guns at Steve, making little “pew pew” noises and blowing imaginary smoke from the tips. Steve rolled his eyes and did another quick once-over of the sky as Clint turned his attention to Tony. The archer reached out and dragged a hand down the right side of the suit.

     “Ooooh, it must be the apocalypse, Iron Man is _rusting_!”

     “Oh my _God, Clint,_ TITANIUM GOLD ALLOY- rust- are you- what even- _RUST_ -not-“

      Both Bucky and Steve burst into helpless giggles as Tony spluttered and scrabbled at the manual clasps of the chest piece. Yanking it free, the inventor ran his finger tip down the gouge in the metal, the flaking paint vaguely resembling rust. A great gust of air whooshed out of him, and he clapped the plate back into position as he glared at his friend. “Gold is the most non-reactive metal, like, ever, titanium is pretty much a-, rust, do you know what rust even is? Oxidation! It's highly improbable that a titanium gold alloy would – like I'd make something that could _RUST_ , you-“

     Steve watched Clint lose the battle with his laughter as he caught his breath. He reached out and ruffled Tony’s hair, ignoring as Tony’s rant seamlessly switched tracks to grumbling about his messy locks. He smiled, relishing these silly moments before another bout of fighting for their lives. His smile widened as Tony crossed his arms and actually pouted up at Steve, full lower lip on display. Shifting his hand to cup the inventor’s face, Steve dragged his fingers down through the stubble on the other man’s jaw, pressing his thumb lightly into the chapped flesh.

     “All that time you spend neck deep in machinery I'm surprised you don't sweat rust, Tony.”

     A wet tongue flashed out to lick at the pad of his thumb before his words registered and Tony leaned out of reach, widening his eyes. Before he could make whatever snarky comment was clearly just behind his teeth, Clint burst into another round of laughter and distracted him. Steve abruptly became aware again of Bucky on his other side, but as he cut his eyes towards the Winter Soldier he was met with a slow smirk. He was entirely too aquatinted with that face and it never ended well for Steve. Hurriedly, he turned toward Hawkeye, determined to ignore Bucky for the moment. Clint was waving a hand helplessly at Tony, gasping out “Sweating rust,”occasionally. Tony just had his head cocked to one side, a tiny smile on his face.

     “Alright then. Sure. Not only do I sweat rust, I also routinely breathe chemicals.”

     Steve’s brows snapped together, but a tiny shake of Tony’s head stopped him from saying anything. Bucky, a silent observer until now, drawled “But are you breaking out of the prison bus?” Oh. Oh. Steve vaguely remembered some song that had a frankly disturbing video about the teddy bear version of cockfighting. It had infected the tower a while back. Clint was now waving his arms around, crowing gleefully as Tony tilted his head back and laughed.

      “Nah, Buck, I'll leave that part to the professionals. I'd rather work on making systems blow.” He leered exaggeratedly at Steve. “Wait, where's Natasha? The Widow could cover the painting things red part. Have I mentioned that woman is terrifying? Because seriously. Terrifying. Brucie-Bear, there's our ash and dust wake up call. Ooooh, and Cap here can stand all heroic and patriotically raise a flag. His shield counts right? Totally counts.”

     Clint let out a final whoop and dashed off suddenly, leaving the other three men staring after him. He reappeared a moment later, trailing Natasha and Rhodes. Still several yards away, Clint threw his head back and bellowed, “I’m waking up to ash and dust, I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust!” Several people in the nearby area turned to look, and a voice Steve didn't immediately recognize yelled “Welcome to the new age!” Another voice, more easily recognizable and most definitely belonging to one Wade Wilson crooned, “This is the apocalypse! Only can we not, my readers will pine if my issue ends like this,” which, huh, might explain Spidey trying to hide behind Logan, actually.

     Natasha’s red brows rose, her equally red mouth curling into a wry smile. Dramatically, she tossed her hair over one shoulder and jutted out a hip before pointing imperiously at Clint. She threw something out at him in Russian, too fast for Steve to catch, before she whirled away. He cocked a brow at the archer and then had to scrabble to keep his hands on his shield as the stocky man tried to hijack it.

     Bucky chuckled and bumped his shoulder. “She said, if we're going to do this idiocy, then we ought to do it right.” 

     "Do I even want to know?”

     “You plannin’ on tellin’ them no?”

     “Steeeeeeve! Gimmie!” That last came from Clint, who had broken out the puppy eyes when he couldn't yank the shield away. Steve ignored him in favor of another visual sweep of the field. If he also kept part of his attention of Tony pulling his repulsor gloves on, no one else needed to know. Iron Man kept his helmet nestled between his feet. Absently, he leaned closer to Steve, just enough to rest his head on the super soldier’s collarbone for a moment. The sky remained empty, but Steve was amused to notice that Rhodes was now exchanging faces with Tony.

      Natasha reappeared, Coulson in her wake. A young woman Steve thought was named Skye followed close on Coulson’s heels. Widow slapped Clint upside the back of his head as she came to a stop next to Tony, reaching out with the other hand to pinch Steve just under the ribs where he was most ticklish. Steve squeaked, hands coming up to bat at Natasha. As soon as he released his shield, Clint scooped it up.

     “What? What the- give it back!”

     Widow smiled. “Just watch, boss man. You'll get it back, no worse for wear.”

     “No- no worse for wear?! What are you doing-“ Clint started slapping his hands rhythmically along the shield, cutting Steve off. “What- why- stop hitting my shield!”  

      Tony leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Steve's mouth, before pulling back to grin at the blond man.

     “Cap. You hit things with your shield all the time. That is literally what it is for. Pretty sure not even Clint’s biceps can make an impression. You're cute when you stress over your shiny baby.”

     Clint must have found what he was seeking on the shield because suddenly the slapping was less noise and more a beat. A familiar beat. Rhodes began to make noises with his mouth- beat boxing, Tony had called it- making the rhythm even more easily identifiable. Steve groaned. “My shield is not a drum!” He threw up his hand is surrender when Coulson pulled some metal object out of his inner pocket, running his hands along it and coaxing sounds eerily similar to a stringed instrument from it. Considering what the man’s seemingly endless talents, it wouldn't have been surprising if it had just been a paper clip and a prayer.

     It took them a few tries,and it was by no means perfect but they soon managed to harmonize and make it clearly recognizable. Silence had spread out in ripples from the knot of music as focus was pulled from individual preparations. Thor and Bruce began to make their way towards the rest of the Avengers, clustered at the center of the supers. As they reached the rest, Bucky surprised everyone by clearing his throat. His voice was hoarse from disuse as he sang the opening ‘woah’s, petering out as the music swelled. Steve hugged him sideways, almost missing it when Natasha poked Tony. Tony glared but she only stared back. When he didn’t respond, she sighed and ran a finger down the side of his throat.

    “Sing for us, Tony. Don't give me that look, I've heard you, your voice is like sex and velvet. You take lead.” She gestured to the others, and they began again.

     Bucky voiced the nearly subvocal prelude, the music swelled, then….. then Tony opened his mouth. Steve could only stare as Tony drew a deep breath, put his head back and elongated his beautiful throat and…. sang. His voice was indeed like velvet, smooth and unexpectedly deep, just a hint of a rumble at the edges, just enough dirt in his voice to make it tremble along Steve’s bones. Tony managed to project his voice and somehow keep it soft. This was nothing like when he sang in the workshop. The few remaining bubbles of outside noise faded as Tony’s voice escaped the little pocket made by his teammates. Steve realized suddenly that the man’s eyes were closed, his face relaxed, a smile curling the edges of his lips. He was radiant. Steve was enraptured.

     “ I'm waking up to ash and dust/I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust/I'm breathing in the chemicals…”

     Here there was a great collective inhale as anyone who knew the song sucked in a huge breath, held it for a beat and then noisily released it. Bucky started to support Rhodes on the, the –beatboxing? Vocalizing notes meant for instruments. Steve wasn't really sure when he’d picked up that particular skill. Clint’s voice, hoarse at the edges and higher pitched than Tony’s began to sing back up. Tony pointed dramatically towards Bucky, who lost his beat as he snickered.

     “I'm breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus/this is it, the apocalypse/whoa/I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones/enough to make my systems blow/ welcome to the new age, to the new age, /welcome to the new age, to the new age.”

     Natasha tilted her head back as they reached the chorus, her voice mingling with Tony’s, dancing around his vocals. Her voice was meant for a smoke-filled jazz club, a purr that was pulled from somewhere deep in her chest. “Whoa ohh whoa ohh I'm radioactive, radioactive….” Tony fluttered his fingers in Steve’s direction as he belted out the next verse, “I raise my flags, don my clothes/ it's a revolution I suppose.” He carefully ran his gauntleted fingers through Natasha's hair, singing the next line directly to her, “We’ll paint it red to fit right in, whoa.”

     Steve closed his eyes as the song continued, rippling along the silent ranks, bouncing off the nearby hills and echoing slightly, Natasha’s vocals occasionally twining up and around Tony’s, as well as light and airy female voice that Steve tracked down Skye. Suddenly the music stopped, startling Steve out of his reverie. He opened his eyes, Tony still directly in front of him. He continued to sing unaccompanied, his voice suddenly sweet and full of longing, leaving Steve breathless.

     “All systems go, the sun hasn't died/deep in my bones/straight from inside,"

     Tony opened his eyes and mimed blowing a kiss towards Steve. As the music rejoined him, Tony engaged the boot repulsers, rising slowly from the group to hover over their heads, singing the final round into the sky. All eyes followed his finger as he pointed to the horizon, where small black dots were just becoming visible.    

       As the song ended, there was a moment of stillness. All eyes fixed on the swiftly approaching enemy. This was meant to be the last stand, the final push to roust the invaders. This was meant to end the war. Into the stillness, a voice rose, husky and full of laughter.

     Bucky grinned up at Tony as he sang, “If I go I can only hope /That I make it to the other side/If you want to get out alive/Whoa-oh, run for your life….” As his voice faded away, he bent down and scooped up tony’s helmet, throwing it up to the hovering man easily.

     Tony caught it one handed and spun around to survey the troops as they readied themselves. Thor spun his hammer, jumping aloft. Cape fluttering in the wind, Thor nodded towards Tony, complimenting him on his fine choice for a ballad. Storm clouds began to crawl across the sky.

     “Call it, Cap,” Tony’s voice easily carried over the waiting mass of tightly coiled violence. He jammed his helmet into place, spinning back towards the enemy.

     “This may be a new age for me,” Cap’s ‘command voice’ echoed off the hills, “but I'll be damned if this is the apocalypse. I ain’t runnin’, and I plan on seeing tomorrow. Let's send these bastards back where they came from.”

     “Seriously, Cap?”

     “Shut up, Iron Man. **_Avengers! Assemble!”_**

     The response was immediate, flyers launching themselves into the sky, those ground bound surging forward as Thor howled a challenge, shooting towards the invaders. His first strike of lightening struck the lead ship, knocking the triangular vessel clean out of the sky. Before it could impact the earth Hulk threw himself into its path and caught it, spinning on his heels to send it careening into a second ship. As they fell in a riot of flames, the humans roared triumph.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
